splayed
with a deathmask as gaunt
as in life
metacarpals and phalanges,
liberated (in vain) of rubbery
connective tissues
ribs and spine,
so surprisingly human,
sunbleached
bones that may as well have been mine
but weren’t for whatever reason
(or no reason at all)
what karmic debt
could this poor specimen have possibly incurred
to be pinned, naked and fleshless, in a glass-paned box for all to see for all foreseeable eternity?
mayhap beauty is, itself
criminal
when it goes without a price tag.